The Sum of All Things
by izzy95
Summary: It wasn't something I was expecting to happen. But somehow it happened anyways. I guess the best way to describe it is to say that it must be the sum of all things. - Scully's POV, set in a time where she's slowly and surprisingly falling in love and trying to figure out how to act accordingly on it. (femslash)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

 **New story! Very exciting! What was supposed to be a one-shot of Scully's thoughts and feelings have turned into a multiple-chaptered romantic story. It's from Scully's POV written in a mixture of thought flows and journal-like sequences. Will later turn into something more actively story-like, so this first chapter is very much more of a presentation of Scully's current situation and mind (according to my mind and fantasy, heh). I'll maintain the writing style though in the chapters to come.**

 **Since I haven't watched more than till 9X04 of The X-Files, this takes place at that time and you should expect that everything before that can be spoiled!**

 **This is very clear femslash, I guess you have already guessed the pairing, so I won't say ;)**

 **I have some more chapters coming up, but this is very much a work-in-progress without a set ending yet. I'd love to hear thoughts or ideas or any sort of reaction/feedback really! It's nice to know if people have actually read what you've written, and it really encourages me to continue :)**

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It wasn't something I was expecting to happen. Not something that I thought was possible, given the situation. When I look back, I think it was a mixture of many different things. The loss of a man I had been so emotionally bonded to that it still scared me, the birth of my son and therefor the birth of a new world perspective for me, the bond created through that, the loneliness of having to go through all of it without Mulder by my side and the reminisce of someone else long lost and still loved dearly. Still it was something that defied all that I was expecting for my future and myself. My future. I'm not sure how I planned things to come out. On one hand I was longing for Mulder to come home, to be with the family that he had helped to create, on the other hand I dreaded just that. I feel guilty even thinking it, but a part of me hidden deep inside, was relieved that my life with Mulder was on standby. That I finally had time to stop and breath in and enjoy a nice and more quiet life with less aliens and more quality time with my newborn son. A part of me just really longed to move on.

I believe that a part of me will always love Mulder, love the person he was at the bottom of his heart, love what he left behind in my son. But between kidnappings, cancer and family deaths, my emotional side has been left completely drained and messed up. And while one part of me wanted him to take me in my arms and make it all go away, another part of me knew that his arms could never give me the complete peace I longed for and to be honest, I was scared for everybody's safety should Mulder return.

But then what about the future? Would I be a single mother, working as a federal agent for the FBI? I had the support of my own mother, my family; I wasn't completely left to my own. Would I find another man who could raise my son with me and who wouldn't bring any sort of danger with him? While it was certainly a possibility, the thought seemed horrible in the light of my recent loss of Mulder. Anyway, I had my team with me to support me as well. John Doggett, who while being extremely rough around the edges always tried to understand and protect me. The same goes for Walter Skinner, who have brought an almost fatherly care for me with him and whom I now trust completely to keep the wellbeing of me and my son a top priority.

Then there's Monica Reyes. Monica. The last person I was expecting to show up in a time of need. The woman who tried to help me find Mulder when all hope seemed lost. The woman who took my hand and drove me away when they were coming after my son. Who protected me, gave me shelter, build a small temporary home just for me to give birth. Who called me beautiful when I felt most awful. Who has ever only been gentle and caring towards me in a comforting and relaxing sense, when that was what I needed the most. Who did everything to protect me and my son when all hope seemed lost. I'm forever grateful for that. She reminds me of my sister sometimes, with all her cosmic talk and thoughts. It's a nice thing to remember. Other times, she almost reminds me of Mulder with her everlasting passion, willpower and her tendency to look for unusual answers in the unexplained. But while that is all true, she seems to lack the same sort of sense to overlook the bigger perspective that always got Mulder out in dangerous situations.

Maybe that's the reason behind all this madness, or maybe it's all the things that was listed in the beginning, all that I know for certain is that ever since the night she helped give birth to me son, she hasn't been able to leave my mind. Lately I've also found myself looking at her, letting my eyes linger over her face, her body. It fascinates me, how she's able to pour out so much calmness, lightness and strength at the same time. I find my gaze starring into her dark eyes, look over her soft features, her curves. Mulder never had any of that. None of my previous romantic partners have had that. And there it is. The million dollar thought that keep plaguing my mind and eating at my soul. What does it all mean? Why would I even compare her to romantic partners when she's another woman, a deeply admired friend? A colleague?

I see the glimmer in her eyes when she looks at me; I see the way her face lights up when we talk. But with the exception of a heartwarming compliment and a friendly hand on my shoulder, she hasn't tried to flirt with me or anything. I know that she wouldn't risk ruining our work relationship, our slowly building friendship. I think she knows how much I've been through and knows that I need a friend more than anything else, and even if I have a hard time letting anyone in, I know she would never give up on the possibility that I might one day open up to her. At the same time, I also know that she would never demand it from me. She doesn't demand anything from me. It's rather refreshing.

Maybe I'm just lonely and vulnerable. Maybe that's why she's stuck on my minds. Maybe she reminds me of different things lost and dearly missed. But as I sit here, right now, looking deeply into her eyes, I don't see Mulder or Melissa. I see Monica. Only Monica. Her long soft dark hair, her friendly smile, her kind and compelling eyes. I feel my heart beat faster, and while it certainly could be because of the wine, I know for certain that my mind isn't near any of the previously stated things.

I'd invited her over this morning. It was really more like a spur of the moment thing. We had been going over a new X-file for which Doggett and Reyes had wanted me to do an autopsy. And while everybody had been busy starring at the slide show in the darkened room, John going on about all the details of the case, my eyes had crept over to the woman standing in front of me. She was clearly concentrated on the story being told, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. It was a cute look on her. I loved seeing her like this. Slowly as my thought drifted, my gaze dipped lower, down to her so soft looking lips and lower still to the base of her slender neck, the edge of her white t-shirt. Blue jeans and a white t-shirt, a dark blazer on top to make it seem more work appropriate. She looked so butch sometimes. So hot. I knew I should've stopped my mind from running in those directions, should listen to an important case involving the life and death of people. But somehow, I didn't want my thoughts to stop.

I was tired of being so damn alone all the time, tired of always waiting to act or tell or let myself be vulnerable. I never allowed myself to be vulnerable, scared of getting hurt. This time, I told myself, I wouldn't do that. This time, I felt safe enough that even if things didn't go my way, nothing would be blamed on me. She wouldn't blame me for anything in this vulnerable position, and I doubt that if I asked her to stay by my side as a friend she would say no.

So when Doggett was finally done and had left the room, Reyes about to follow him, I lightly touched her elbow, making her turn to face me.

"Agent Reyes, can you stay for a moment longer?" I asked in a more quiet tone, looking her in the eyes with a mixture of pleading and seriousness, but also testing my waters.

"Sure." She nodded, slightly confused whether she should be worried or not. For a second she turned around to face a still-standing John, waiting patiently for her. "Go ahead John, I'll catch you in a minute." Doggett didn't seem entirely sure of the situation though, as he looked directly past Reyes to look me in the eyes.

"Everything okay there, Agent Scully?" he asked in his usual concerned tone. I suddenly felt my cheeks flush in slight embarrassment, all my hopes of being discreet and smooth long gone.

"Everything's fine, don't worry." I replied in my usual firm tone, closing off any discussions. He looked at me for a moment longer before giving a curt nod to the two of us and heading for the elevator. When he was finally out of sight, Monica turned back towards me, looking me straight in the eyes with those dark and penetrating eyes of hers.

"So what did you want to talk about?" she asked gently. Suddenly I felt like a fool, standing with still flushed cheeks and a beating heart. How in the world was I going to execute this? I really should have thought it through before just jumping right into it. This wasn't like me at all and I suddenly began to hate this impromptu idea of mine. But it was too late to back out.

"I was wondering if you have any plans for this evening?" I asked, my gaze turned slightly downwards in embarrassment. Looking back up, I found Monica looking at me with a mixture of confusing and what looked like slight shock, completely unsure as to what kind of scenario she would walk into. Hopefully not any more deathly conspiracies, I could imagine her thinking.

"Not really, no. What did you have in mind?" she asked with furrowed brows.

"I was wondering if you'd maybe like to come over to my place." I smiled lightly in an ironic manner at the absurdity of the situation, which seemed to be a good thing, because when I looked her in her eyes a small but curious smile grew on her lips as well.

"Is there any secrets I should know about? Should I ask John to tag along or something? Is everything alright?" Of course she would think it could only ever be work related. God, I hated that I had to deepen my very clearly lacking explanation for the proposal.

"No, nothing to worry about. Just two colleagues getting a glass of wine and relaxing a bit after a stressful time." Now she looked extremely but very pleasantly surprised. I don't think she had ever really seen a lot of this side of me. Not a lot of people do. I liked to see her like this, beaming over something so silly. It made me blush even harder. "What?" I asked with the air of a nervous chuckle hidden in my embarrassed smile as I suddenly found it hard to keep my gaze straight at hers.

"Nothing. I just thought you'd never ask." She stated quietly. Now it was my turn to look slightly surprised up at her, a calm and slightly beaming smile still resting on her face.

"So is that a yes?" I asked, wanting to clarify.

"Yes, that's a yes." She said with a chuckle, and that was that.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I wasn't really going to upload more of this story until I'd written a bit more, but I got a really nice review and suddenly wanted to upload more as soon as possible :) PS. I know Mulder is going to be like an underlying theme for a bit, but I want to keep it as close to what might seem possible given the time this is written in. There's a lot of communication between the lines in here, but hopefully all their actions and reactions are justified given the situation.**

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To say I was nervous would be an understatement. And to say that I didn't hate myself for feeling that way would be a lie. William was spending the night with my mom, so I was suddenly left completely to my own demise. I missed him to be honest, mostly because of the nice distraction that he created when I was getting too wrapped up in my own head. There was really nothing more calming and grounding than picking him up and swaying him carefully in my arms. Sometimes I would even catch myself singing for him. It made me smile. To look down at that perfect vulnerable little being and know that he came from me was a miracle. I have so many different feelings attached him, it's unbelievable. I suddenly understand why they say that you don't know what true love and sacrifice means until you become a parent. I was still busy thinking about little William when I heard the doorbell ring.

I looked down at myself a last time before going to the door. I hadn't really done much about my look, hadn't really changed. I was still unsure about what I was even doing. Why I had invited her. Was this a date? I certainly hadn't presented it as one, wasn't even sure if that was what I wanted. If it had been a date, I would have done more to impress. But she was still my female coworker. It would be strange and might be frowned upon if we began dating. Not that I cared what everybody else thought of my private life. It would be too much pressure though; I felt too exhausted after trying to let Mulder go, to try to get back in the game. I wasn't ready for all that. I was sure of that. Until I stood face to face with her again.

I hugged her when I opened the door, smelled her perfume. It was nice, smelled like a mixture of flowers and her unique scent. She had brought a bottle of wine with her. She was smiling, being friendly, moving to help find stuff in the kitchen, chatting lively. I watched her from the living room, a smile on my face as she moved about. She was still wearing her white t-shirt and blue jeans but she had lost the formal blazer. She looked so at home like this, so relaxed. It felt like she had been here longer. Shaking the thought, I went to help her in her search for some glasses. We decided to order some pizza for dinner. I smiled. I liked this, being around her. I liked her joking around with me, never putting any pressure on me, not assuming anything. Maybe that was just what I needed in this time. A good friend.

That's how we ended up sitting on my couch, looking each other in eyes. We have finished the pizza now, are just leaning back on the couch and relaxing. She's telling me about this time that she went camping with her family as kid, and how scared she had been of the woods at night. But as always determined to figure out what was going on, she had snuck of with a flashlight to explore.

"It was really a great way to overcome my fear." She says, looking off in reminisce. "It scared the hell out of me for the first hour or so, but slowly I got used to it and decided that there wasn't _really_ any monsters hiding anyway. It was still the same beautiful forest it had been during the day; it was only just dark now."

"Weren't your parents scared?" I ask, thinking of how worried my parent would have been.

"I never actually told them." She confess, a sly smirk firmly placed on her lips. I look at her for a second before chuckling.

"You were a trouble maker?" I ask, not really all that surprised. I can see little Monica running around, making tricks.

"A big one. Always off doing one stupid stunt after the other. I always wanted to impress the older boys in school, show them that I was cool and willing to do stuff when the other kids got too scared. I once tried to skateboard down the roof of our gym in school."

"Really? What happened?" I ask with a slight shock. That just sounded so incredibly stupid and dangerous. She must really have tried to impress.

"The principle stopped me before I could actually do it. Which was probably a very good thing when I think about it. I could really have gotten hurt." She shakes her head slightly at the memory of her younger and more foolish self. "I don't know, I was always a victim of bullying when I was a kid. People thought I was strange, what with my interests in stuff like stars and numerology, my fascination with different religions and my superstition. I always had the strangest hobbies, was always fascinated by the strangest things. And whenever I tried to tell people about my sensitivity towards spiritual energies, they thought I was nuts. So I made up for it by trying to be cool and fearless. It worked to some extent. The older I got the more I realized that I shouldn't try and hide away who I am. Even if I sometimes get some strange looks or people think I'm insane." She swallows, her smile a bit smaller than before.

I look at her more deeply, searching her eyes. She seems almost vulnerable in this moment, having just laid a new part of herself out like that. I take my hand and place it on her thigh, stroking it calmly. "I don't think your nuts." I say in a quiet yet serious tone. Before I can think better of it, I lift my hand to stroke her soft cheek only once. I'm not sure why I did it, but for a moment, but it seemed like the right thing to do. Her look suddenly turns more unreadable as she searches my eyes. I'm not sure that she found her answer as she turns determined away for our intense eye lock.

"It's getting late soon, I should probably leave." She says solemnly. Before she can get up from the couch though, I grab her hand, holding it loosely in mine.

"Please, don't go." I say in something close to a whisper. But when her eyes turn to mine the look of fear and concern in her now glassy eyes takes me by surprise. I don't think I've ever seen her look so vulnerable, even more so than before.

"Dana." She whispers in a pleading, strained voice. "What am I doing here? It shouldn't be me who's sitting here with you, we both know that." There's pain in her expression, something close to tears in her voice. I pause at the mentioning of Mulder. Maybe he should be the one who was here, maybe he would be in another universe, but he isn't the one I want to be here. It's only her. Her company that I'm enjoying and feeling free in, it's she who makes me feel warm and happy again, it's she who brings light in this otherwise dark time. Would I wish Mulder didn't have to leave? Sure. Would I wish that I knew he was safe and back home in his apartment being his good-humored self? Yes. Would I want to switch her dark and beautiful eyes out with his? No. Would I wish her soft curves would transform into his firm form? No. Absolutely not. As I'm sitting here in this moment, I know deep down within myself that I wouldn't have it any other way than it is right now with her sitting by my side. The look of pain in her eyes, mixed with my fear of being left again, this time by this small brunette beacon of light making my days more doable, has me by my knees in a matter of no time.

"Please, don't leave me." I plead again, suddenly feeling selfish and small. Sensing my change, she moves forwards and captures me in a tight embrace, holding me as close as possible.

"Don't worry, Dana. I would never leave you." She whispers in my ear. Suddenly it's me with the tear-filled eyes and strained voice. I let out a slight whimper of relief at her words, and for once, I allow myself to break down, safe in her arms. I've missed this kind of human contact, this kind of comfort. It's normally not something that I would allow myself, but given everything that I've been through in a very small period of time, it couldn't have been more needed right now. And I know she understands. I know she knows how rare and needed this was. I allow myself to stay like this for a while, crying in her arms. I can't believe how intoxicating it is, the scent of her subtle perfume rising to meet my nose, her soft hair brushing against my face, her warm body surrounding mine protectively, her strong arms holding me impossible close. I feel my face flush, my heart beat, my mind distracting my pain with thoughts of other things that could be happening right now in this compromised position. Fueled by my lightheadedness from all the crying, the sudden arousal and the few glasses of wine I've had, I turn my neck and burry my face in her dark hair, before letting my lips form into a gentle kiss on her neck.

But almost as soon as she recognizes this action for what it is, she freezes before placing her hands awkwardly on my shoulders and pushing me away. Her expression is once again pained, her eyes shut and her brows furrowed.

"I can't…" she whimpers, refusing to meet my eyes. "I don't want to leave you Dana, especially not like this, but I can't be a substitute for someone else. I refuse drag myself through that." When she finally looks me in the eyes, her gaze is stern and surprisingly cold for such a warmhearted person. A pang of guilt seeps through my body. I never stopped to think about her and what she would think of this whole situation. I've been too caught up in my own feelings to think that there was a possibility that she didn't reciprocate my affection on such a romantic and basic level.

"I'm sorry." I say quietly after a long pause. My mouth fills with bitterness and I'm unsure of what to do about it. I've been so emotionally messed up lately that I never stopped to think how it would affect the people around me and my relationship to said people. "I didn't mean to cause any offense or to take advantage of you." I continue in a more serious tone, feeling all my walls building back up, my body growing rigid.

Instead of taking her things and leaving as I would have expected, and not blamed her for, she chooses to stay, studying my features while I awkwardly and hurtfully look away. I don't know how long we sit like this, awkward and stiff, before Monica's shoulders suddenly drops with a long sigh as leans comfortably back against the couch. She puts her hand to the brink of her nose, massaging it as I hear her… chuckle?

"What?" I ask, suddenly feeling very confused and beginning to feel slightly hurt.

"It's just…" she lets out between the ever stronger chuckles, looking momentarily to the ceiling. "This whole situation, Dana." She's looking me in the eyes now, smiling warmly, a glint growing her in eyes. "It's absolutely absurd." Monica concludes, shaking her head. Suddenly I find myself releasing a long sigh as well, falling back against the couch. Her words suddenly hits me. How right she is. Sometimes I get so caught up in the seriousness of it all, that I forget to see how absurd a situation really is. I laugh, feeling relief rolling over my otherwise tense body. My heart isn't beating anymore, and I smile, looking into her eyes. This is what I like about her, right here, right now, that sense of relaxation, that side of her that never fail to make me smile or laugh, even when things are, as now, absolutely absurd.

"Look, Dana." She says, taking on of my hands in both of hers. Before she regrets it, she takes it to her mouth a place a firm but friendly kiss on it, pulling it down into her lap immediately after. "I am very flattered. And while I am, in fact, extremely attracted to you, I'm not Mulder. And I can't live with myself knowing that you would only be with me, because you miss him. That would break my heart. And I don't really want my heart broken if I'm being honest." She chuckles, but I can sense that some of her pain has returned. I look down at our joined hands, that same pang of guilt returning. I want to protest, I want to tell her that it's not true. That while I did love Mulder, it's not him that I dream about anymore, not him that I constantly think about, not him that makes me blush and makes my heart beat faster. But before I get the chance to voice any of those thoughts, Monica opens her mouth again.

"If you don't want me leave you tonight, then I won't. I can sleep right here on the couch if you'd like. But I'm staying here because I know that you need a friend more than anything else. Because I know how much you've gone through and because I know the importance of having someone with you in your corner. And I promise you that I won't leave until you shove me out of that door." We both chuckle at that, before her tone turns more serious. "I won't let you play with my feelings when I know you don't share them. But I promise to stay despite of that. Now how does that sound?" she asks, getting up from the couch.

"It sounds good." I reply as I get up as well and goes over to hug her. While I still want to correct her on her mistake, I can suddenly feel the pull of tiredness and exhaustion weighing my body down and I feel comfortable saving that discussion for now. So I let my head lean on her chest and enjoy the warmth of her arms wrapped securely around me, her hand stroking my hair peacefully.

I let her stay on the couch for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks again for the kind review! It's nice to know that people think I'm portraying the characters somewhat believable :D Anyways, a slightly more fluffy and light-hearted chapter ahead for the few readers out there! And feel free to review, it warms my heart to get a bit of feedback :)**

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When I wake up in the morning, it's to the smell of freshly brewed coffee coming from my kitchen.

Instead of rushing into the kitchen though, I chose to take my time as I get up and take a quick shower. Sometimes there's just nothing more healing than having hot water leap down over my skin and feel all my pent up emotions and stress roll down the drain. I smile as I think about how little I actually have to worry about right in this instant. William is safely with my mother, the work loads are getting smaller and my hours more regular, I have the most amazing woman waiting for me in _my_ kitchen with coffee for _me_. And even if Mulder isn't here, I know he's in safety and for the first time in a very long time, I chose not to worry or think about him anymore, content only with the knowledge that he is safe. That other things are more important right now. Like the woman waiting for me.

So it's with a smile on my lips that I quickly finish in the bathroom, pull on some more lazy weekend clothes and step out from my room, content that I have to correct the misconceptions of a certain brunette. When I step around to the kitchen, I'm greeted by the sight of Monica in the midst of frying some eggs I forgot that I had in my fridge. She looks so at ease in this simple task as a guest in my home. Like this is just any other Saturday morning and she's always been doing this, sipping her coffee and cooking for us. I can't stop thinking how beautiful she looks like this and a part of me just want to stay here and remain unseen, watching her move around. But when she begins to mutter the word 'salt' to herself multiple times and starts pulling on various drawers, I decide that I should probably step in to help her.

Walking silently behind her and placing a gentle hand around her waist, I lean so my front is pressed flush against her back, reaching over her shoulder with my other hand to take the salt sitting on the hood above the stove. I feel the slight jump she makes when I first touch her waist, before she subconsciously relaxes into my touch. I turn slightly, my hand moving to the small of her back instead so I can look her in the eyes.

"Where you looking for this?" I ask in a low voice, my lips forming into a smile as I see the blush spreading on her cheeks. My heart is beating slightly now. We're standing so incredible close. It would be so easy to just lean in and…

"Thanks." She says taking the offered salt from my hand. She smiles calmly at me before returning to her task of cooking. I stand with my arm around her for a second, before I realize that this might not be all that wanted, given the conversation we had yesterday. Not wanting to waist the moment and the closeness though, I move behind her and place a gentle kiss on her shoulder before stepping back to lean against one of the chairs around my table instead. I instantly miss her warmth. I can see her taking a moment to collect herself, and I suddenly feel bad about my actions.

"I hope you don't mind me cooking some breakfast for us." When she turns around to look me in the eyes she smiled broadly, but somehow it doesn't seem to reach her eyes completely.

"Of course not. It's a very pleasant surprise." I say, picking up the coffee mug she's left out for me.

I'm not completely sure how, but somehow we manage to return the lighthearted mood and teasing doing breakfast. It's nice, it's relaxing, it's everything and more. And I think that that's why I choose not to let go. I think that why, despite all her discomfort surrounding the subject of her and I, I can't let go of her. I can't let go of this chance, that maybe, just maybe, this is something not to let go of. So that's why, when lunch is finally finished, I take her hand in mine, just like yesterday.

"You know, Monica, I really like this. Being here with you." I know I rarely call her anything but Reyes to her face, but Monica just suits her so much better. It falls out of my mouth so easily. Like the name was meant to live there. When I look her in the eyes, she's searching my face for any type of hints, any clues. But my face is always so closed off it gets hard to tell what I'm thinking. I know that. She smiles, but it feels strained.

"I like it too." She says in a small voice, looking down a second. When she looks back up at me she's still smiling, but melancholy is tainting the edges of her mouth. Feeling bad that I'm causing all this pain inside her, I move my chair so I'm directly in front of her and takes her chin in my hand and turn her face so she's looking me directly in the eyes. Taking a deep breath, I finally address the elephant in the room; finally say out loud what's been on my mind all this time.

"Look, Monica I want you to listen very closely to what I'm about to say." My tone is serious, my head leaned closer to hers and when she nods, I let go of her face again. I take a second to breathe out and relax before I echo my exact thoughts from the day before. "Would I wish Mulder didn't have to leave? Sure. Would I wish that I knew he was safe and back home in his apartment being his good-humored self? Yes." As I say all this, she looks down again, readying herself for the defeat that she's sure she'll receive. Readying herself for being right all along. So I take her face in my hand once again and direct her gaze to my face. I sit like this for a small while, looking deeply into her beautiful dark eyes, looking down at her soft pink lips, stroking her face calmly before I continue. "Would I want to switch your dark and beautiful eyes out with his?" I pause for effect. "No." As I say this word, I can see her face slowly lightening up and I can't help but smile at how adorable he looks. "Would I wish your soft curves would transform into his firm form? No. Would I wish that it was him I was about to kiss instead of you? Absolutely not."

I let my words sink in before I gently move her face closer to mine. I pause just before our lips meet in order to give her a way out if wanted, before I gently kiss her lips. I feel the electricity running through me, the warm softness of lips as they move against mine. My brain has effectively shut down as I concentrate on just feeling. The kiss is soft and gentle, either of us feeling the need to press firmer in this moment. So much is being said through this kiss, so many feelings exchanged, so many promises. It makes my heart flutter. When we break apart, I look her deeply in eyes, still stroking her cheek gently.

"Would I want you to be him? Not in a million years." I smile happily as I say this. She smiles back with such brilliance before taking my face in both her hands and she kisses me again, this time more firmly. A promise that she won't leave me, but that she will stay right here in my arms as long as I want her.

She stays with me and comes along when I go to pick up William. After briefly introducing her as my colleague and friend to my mother, I show her around my parents' house. My mother invites us to stay for lunch, but despite my beginning protests, Monica openly accepts the offer on both our behalf. Needless to say, I'm suddenly nervous, but sitting down at the table with my mother and Monica, hearing them talk and talk, I feel more and more relaxed. It was amazing to see how well the two of them got along. And since she was my female coworker, there's no pressure to fit into any category of 'suitable romantic partner that the whole family has to accept'. No forced interrogation, no awkwardness from my mother's side. I can feel it in Monica, every once in a while, her trying to be polite and create a good impression, but when she first begins talking about whale song and crystals, my mom was quick to see the same similarities I had previously seen to Melissa, and she was suddenly very happy to share stories of her. I pitch in every once in a while, sipping from my coffee cup, to correct a mistake or try and make her seem less embarrassing at times, but I have to admit that I kind of like just sitting on the sideline and watch the exchange.

It makes me feel at ease to know that, hopefully when and not if, Monica and I were to become serious and committed, my mother and her at least got well along. I'm not sure how anybody would react to the fact that Monica is a woman, seeing my family is catholic, but knowing and liking Monica would surely lessen the blow. And while Monica isn't Melissa and isn't supposed to be either, maybe Monica would fit nicely into the hole that my sister's left with some of her sides and then be able to provide with even more of what's a part of her own unique personality. The thought makes me smile. Careful that my mother doesn't notice anything, I sneak my hand onto Monica's lap, and gently stroke her thigh with my thumb in a loving manner. Stealing a glance over at her, I see her smile broaden, though she tries to ignore this fact and continue with her conversation as if nothing has changed. I can picture it, her and me staying over here for Thanksgiving or Christmas along with little William. I imagine her hugging my family welcome and helping in the kitchen, chatting with my sister in law and challenging Bill to all sorts of stuff. Chasing after his kids, playing with them. The more I think about all this, the more I realize just how right that thought seems.

While Monica is helping my mother clean up in the kitchen, I go upstairs to look after William. He's awake now, rolling peacefully in his crib, trying to reach out after the baby mobile of small stars and clouds. He looks so peaceful and content. So small. Being very carefully, I pick him up and place him in my arms, swaying him slowly.

"Hey there, little guy." I say, smiling. "How are you? Are you enjoying your stay here with grandma?" I tickle his belly slightly, making him swing his arms around slightly and produce something that looks a bit like a smile. He's still only a few months old, very small, and fairly nonresponsive. My little miracle. It's funny, had you told 5 years ago that I would be a mother now, I'd have laughed at you or guessed that the condom broke and I got unlucky. And while he might have been the cause of a lonely one-night stand an especially rough day after work, he couldn't be more wanted. If I had disclosed any of this with my old self, I doubt that I could convince her that I hadn't just gone completely mad. Unsure whether my child was the result of an alien abduction, the father having had to flee so as to not be hunted down and murdered by mysterious men who wants to cover up a government conspiracy at any cost. And while the father was out of the picture, and my new female partner had come into my life, I was falling in love with her, harder than I ever had before. She came at the right place at the right time and was there for me when I felt most alone and abandoned. It sounds like something straight out of a science fiction book. But looking down at the little man in my arms, I also know that I don't regret any of it and wouldn't wish it was any different. "Did you have a good Friday?" I ask him, nuzzling his chin.

I jump slightly as I feel a hesitant hand land around my waist before it grows more firm as another hand lands on my shoulder. I feel my smile spreading as soft lips land on my neck for a small peck.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I had a very good Friday indeed." I chuckle lightly as Monica says this while putting her arms more fully around me. I relax into her touch and close my eyes.

"I wasn't asking you, silly." I say with an air of sarcasm. Reaching around me, Monica slowly began stroking William's head, whispering her greetings to him.

"I know." She says peacefully. "It was just too good to pass on." She chuckles as I turn my neck and kiss her on the cheek softly. We stand there for a while, safe in each other's arms, both of us looking down at William, Monica with her finger stuck in his closed hand as she moves it playfully back and forwards. I smile. It makes me happy, the three of us standing together like this. I can't imagine a more perfect moment shared with my son and a woman whom I'm slowly beginning to fall deeper and deeper in love with for every moment we share together.

"I like this." I say quietly. I know a baby is a very big thing to thrust upon what might be a potential partner, especially since we just shared our first kiss not all that many hours ago, but I want her to know that I'm all in and don't want to let go. That I want her to a part of both our lives someday.

"Me too." She says, meeting my tone. My heart flutters in joy as I turn in her arms and kiss her silently, William still resting peacefully in my hands. "But as much as I enjoy this, we should probably get back down before your mom starts to worry." As much as I'd love to just stay here, I know she's right, so I agree and we head back down with William this time.

"Well, mom." I say as I reach the living room where she's sitting with a magazine in her hands, earning her attention. "I think we're slowly heading out now." I smile at her in an attempt to stop her from arguing me on it.

"Already?" she says anyway. "You're sure you don't want to stay for dinner Dana?" Even while saying the words she's getting up from her spot on the couch and coming over to say goodbye. She knows me well, and I also think she enjoys having the house a bit to herself sometimes. She's been very helpful in babysitting William as often as I need it, but she isn't getting any younger and the least I can do is give her some rest every now and then. It's not like watching William has proven to be completely harmless either what with way too many dangerous strangers obsessed with my baby.

"No, it's a bit of a drive and I have to drop Monica off as well. I don't want to get home too late." I say. It's a bit of a weak excuse, but it defeats its purpose.

"It was a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Scully. Thank you so much for the lovely meal." Monica says politely, reaching out for my mom's hand.

"The pleasure was all mine." My mom says with a smile, putting her second hand to cover Monica's in an affectionate manner. "And please, call me Margaret." Monica smiles friendly, as far as I can tell more than happy. I turn to my mom and hug her tightly as Monica picks up William in his chair for me.

"Thank you mom, for the lunch and for taking care of William." I say, prolonging the hug as a sign of gratitude.

"Of course, honey. Get home safely." She holds me by the arms and looks at me affectionately before Monica and I begin our way out.

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 **A/N: Can I just point out, that while writing this chapter, I couldn't help but notice how many characters have a name that starts with the letter M. Monica, Mulder, Melissa, Margaret. That's a lot of people! And have you ever noticed that both Scully and Mulder's dads are named William? And Scully's brother Bill is his nickname, his real name is William after the dad. And Scully's baby is also named William. And Skinner's name is Walter, also W. So W & M. Just found it funny XD**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Somebody wrote 'more', so that's what I'm giving ;) Last chapter for now though. Since I never had a storyline planned for this story and never was able to come up with one, this is probably the end of the road. It's written so it can match a last chapter anyway, but if inspiration should strike, even though I strongly doubt it, I'm not closed of to re-opening it though. That's no promise.**

 **I've tried to get back to earth a bit with this chapter, make some reflections. I'm not sure whether Scully would actually have to level of self-awareness when it comes to the issue of William that I'm giving her, but I wanted to comment a bit on it, since the other chapters feels too fluffy when it regards him. Let's not completely ignore the angsty feels going on in canon-world. There's also some comments/observations on the change within Scully that I feel is taking place through the seasons.**

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"I like your mom." Monica informs me while I'm driving. She's looking off into the passing landscape, toying with her hands absentmindedly, occasionally nibbling at the side of her nails. A nervous tick that she has stopped paying attention to many years ago. "She seems very nice." She continued, still in her own mind. I smile lightly, pleased.

"I think she likes you too." I say, placing a hand on her thigh, squeezing it lovingly.

"It was nice to hear some stories about you and your family." She says, still lost in her own train of thoughts as I'm concentrating on the road in front of us, looking back to a sleeping William every once in a while. "I suddenly realized how little I actually know about you and your history." Turning my head, I look at her with intrigue, raising my eyebrow, willing her to go on. She looks over at me, a mixture of seriousness and a lazy calmness on her face. It's clear that while she's curious it's not in any way in a judgmental way. "You're just a very private person." She concludes. "It's hard to imagine the tough and sexy Agent Scully, medical doctor and defender of the truth as a small tomboyish kid playing around with her brothers, climbing trees and getting bruised knees, laughing and running around like any other happy child. It's a whole new side of you that I've never seen before."

She stops there, studying my face. Suddenly I feel myself blushing. Normally I don't care what people think about me, but Monica isn't just anybody. I suddenly find myself at a loss of words, a thing that I'm not very familiar with. I know that I can come off as rather cold sometimes, and there's a reason for that. If I have to be honest, I don't like letting people in because I don't like the fact that it gives them the opportunity to let me down. I have had to fight a lot to get where I am and I've had to dignify myself more than once. You very quickly learn that if you want to get anywhere professionally, both as a woman in a male-dominated field and as a person with feelings in a rather gruesome field, you have to leave your own person at home. And the older I've gotten, the worse I think I've gotten at it. Most of my humor have slowly drained out of me after Mulder's abduction took place. It's refreshing to feel it returning a bit with Monica by my side.

"Yeah?" I say, returning to my current conversation.

"It's nice. I like getting to know you more. Unravelling the mysteries of Dana Scully." She smirks at me as I chuckle, playfully hitting her on the thigh before she gets the chance to pull it away from me. She laughs. It sounds like music to my ears.

I end up dropping her off on the way to my apartment. We discussed it for a small bit in the car and decided that it would be for the best. While I would love nothing more than to get to spend more time with her, she hasn't been at her own home since yesterday, and both of us really want to take it slow. We've still both been through a lot lately, with her moving and having been assigned to the X-Files, still trying to fall into place, and me with everything that's happened with Mulder and William. We just want to make sure that we're not jumping too fast into too much and at the same time we want to take our time to get to know each other better and build a strong foundation for a possible future together. As a scientist, it's what makes most logical sense and I'm glad that we're on the same page about this. So I kiss her, rather passionately, goodbye in the car and take my leave with William. I'm smiling the whole way home.

Even if the weekend seems to go by too slowly for my liking, me and Monica writing each other every day, Monday is suddenly here and I get to see her again at work. I still have an autopsy to make, and even though I can see how much she dislikes watching it, she stays in the corner for some time, so she can be with me. I tease her about it when we're alone in the office of the morgue. I invite her over for dinner Tuesday evening and she accepts. We talk mainly about the case though, going back and forward on different theories based on my findings. It amazes me how open minded she is about all these abnormal theories and cases. She really is perfect for this job, Doggett made a great call on her. It's also nice to see that we have returned to our normal working relationship as if nothing has happened this weekend. That both of us are able to remain professional with each other. It was something that I had feared. The last thing I wanted to do was to have to reevaluate my working situation because I kissed my coworker. While I am indeed falling for her, I still haven't known her for that much time and she could still pull some sort of unexpected move without me being able to do much about it. I'm just happy that she's proving all of my fears and worries wrong.

When I hear a knock on the door Tuesday evening, I'm just putting a finishing touch on the candlelit dinner I've cocked for us. Fish, potatoes and cooked vegetables accompanied by a good white wine. William will be spending the night at my mother's house again. I'm not sure how happy I am with him spending so much time over there instead of with me, but just for this evening, I think he should be fine. I want Monica and I to be able to be a bit alone together before I bring William too much into it. Anyway, it isn't like she's coming over every night, so we should be fine. It's just for this one date. Our first date, technically.

When I open my door, I'm greeted by the sight of red roses held out to me. Taking the outstretched bouquet, I bring them to my nose and close my eyes, taking in the scent.

"Thank you, Monica. They're absolutely beautiful." I say with a smile, looking at them.

"You're absolutely beautiful." I hear her reply in a serious tone. Lifting my now blushing head, I realize that I haven't actually taken my time to properly look at her. She has put on a black dress with a semi-deep V-neck ending in two small straps reaching over her shoulder. At the bottom, it reaches to just under her knees, where her long smooth legs end in black heels. Well, the heel isn't really all that big, probably because she knows I'm smaller than her, but it gives it a nice finish. She looks absolutely stunning, the dress hugging all her curves perfectly. I don't think I've ever seen her look so beautiful before. And to know that she went through all of this trouble to look good for _me_ brings butterflies to my stomach and a smile to my face. I suddenly feel slightly undressed in my black pencil skirt and silky white button-up shirt. All thoughts leave my head though, as Monica leans forward and down, effectively capturing my lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. When she pulls away, she rests her head close to mine, our noses almost touching, while she runs the back of her fingers over my cheek.

"I've been waiting to do that since Saturday." She says in a smile, before I place a firm hand around her neck and pull her in for a second short but not so gentle kiss. I step back afterwards, welcoming her into my apartment.

"Why don't you sit down and I'll put these roses in some water?" I say, moving into the kitchen. Most of my apartment is coated in the darkness by now; the only thing brining light being the candles I placed around and one or two table lamps.

"This is beautiful, Dana. You didn't need to do all this." Monica states as she looks around at the decorated table, the meal, the candles. I must admit I had put in a bit of effort to create a good scenery for us. She's worth it.

"I wanted to." I reply, turning on the faucet to give the roses some water in their new vase.

"I feel lucky." She says with a bright smile, moving over to me. When she's right behind me she runs her hands over my forearms and lean down to kiss my shoulder. "It's extremely romantic, you know?" her voice is more suggestive now. Deciding not to let her win so fast, I gently turn around so my lips are hovering closely to her ear.

"Who said I can't be romantic? I guess you just have to wait and find out how lucky you can get if you behave nicely." I gently nibble her earlobe to show my point before I move away with the flowers to find a home for them on my kitchen table. I know I'm teasing but I can't help myself, and hearing her flustered laugh of slight disbelief only makes my mischievous smile grow even more. I hear her clear her throat.

"Is that so?" she says, reaching out for me, but I swat her hand playfully away before she can touch me.

"Yes. It is." I say matter-of-factly a smirk still on my lips. "Now come to the table. I've spend a lot of time cooking this meal."

She compliments my cooking as we begin eating. I might not be a chef, but do in fact know my way around a kitchen. Enough so that I can get by anyway. It was always Melissa who was the good one in the kitchen though. She liked to help our mother in the kitchen from time to time while I went out to play with my brothers. But whenever we had any functions or guests I always had to help out in the kitchen. I was raised that it was just a natural part of being a woman. It wasn't something that I ever really questioned. So I learned the basics pretty quickly. That being said I must admit that I still had to call my mom and ask her about a few things in the recipe for tonight, since it was one she had given me some time ago.

We eat, talk and laugh. We flirt shamelessly, both of us helping to build a tension between us. It's like a game. Every move and touch seems to be tailored just for each other. Her drifting eyes, greedily taking me in, her hand tracing lines on the edge of her dress, drawing attention to her cleavage. Even her finger tracing down the side of her wine glass and around the rim seems erotic. My foot reaching out and running up the inside of her leg, always stopping close her knee but never actually reaching it. And just as tension gets higher, she says something funny and we laugh, willing let the tension fall but never forgetting it or leaving it completely behind.

I like it. The flirting, the laughing, the closeness and the calm. I never realized just how much. I've been so caught up in conspiracies and the chase of the truth, whatever that may be, that I've forgotten what it feels like to be able to sit back and enjoy life and being with somebody. I used to do it more often. I tried to make it a priority to take a bit of time away from work every once in a while, but that seems like such a long time ago. After Mulder was abducted, it felt like that part of me disappeared along with him. Like the ability to smile and laugh went out of the window and got replaced with a stoic, self-controlled and cold person. I never really allowed anyone to get close, to be there for me. This obsession to try and seek out some sort of truth that would explain everything has brought me to a place where I sometimes can't even look at my own son without questioning his entire existence. It's heartbreaking when I catch myself looking at him almost like he's the alien. Like he holds the answer to everything. It's even more heartbreaking when I catch myself thinking exactly that. Like he's some sort of object to be studied and controlled. Like he's not even mine. I love him so very dearly and sometimes I get scared that I have allowed myself to live so much in my own conspiracy-ridden head that I can't even get to love him in the way I want to. In the way he deserves. And I know Mulder would have never wanted this for me, never sought it out for me, and I don't blame him. But I can't help but feel like I've been left high and dry since his disappearance. Left with too many thought, suspicions and conspiracies, yet with no one to turn to and no place to go with it. Even if I know it's for his own best, I haven't been able to stop myself from feeling abandoned by him. I feel like it has hardened me. And I don't think I've realized just how much. I had laughed earlier this evening at one of Monica's jokes, high on the wine and the company. When I stopped, she had looked at me and smiled.

"I like this." She said, taking my hand in hers. "I don't think I've ever seen you so relaxed before. It really suits you. I like this side of you." She said, smiling honestly.

It was strange, hearing her say that. On one hand, I felt happy. Blessed to have her here with me and happy that she was enjoying this as much as I was. On the other hand, I almost felt sad, hit by the impact of her words. She hadn't seen me like this because I hadn't allowed myself to be like this since before we met. To know that she never got to know me when I was at my best and only met me when I was at my worst was almost heartbreaking. I want to get that old flame back, that sense of the person I used to be, the one who while being a serious and scientific person still had a wild strike hidden somewhere in her. Wasn't scared to relax and do nothing for the day, try to get away, get out. Have a life outside of work. I want that back. I mean, that's one of the reason I have a teaching job now. So I would finally be able to have time to spend as I wanted. And that includes being with William. Now it also includes being with Monica. With her, I finally feel like I'm able to return to a glimmer of that old person I thought I had lost. She makes me want to work with myself and want to change for the better, with her in my hand.

So we talk and we laugh and we flirt. And I kiss her. Just as softly as our first kiss, enjoying her lips moving slowly and perfectly against mine, her arms calmly and securely around my body. Her kiss seems to somehow wake me up, bring me butterflies, fireworks, makes my head feel lighter. I never thought the simple kiss and touch of another person could turn me on so completely. Could bring me back to life. Kissing her feels like finally coming home. And suddenly I have no doubt that everything is going to be alright in the end, as long as I can keep her by my side.

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 **A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed this story! All and any feedback/ideas/thought are encouraged, and thank you for reading!**


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